by Joy Avery
Roth strapped her into the two-seater aircraft. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little nervous about Roth flying them to wherever it was he was flying them to. And it wasn’t the fact that it was Roth, per se; she would have been nervous with anyone behind the wheel—controls—of this intimate craft. Plus, when she flew, she was used to having far more space, and far more pilots manning the controls.
“Um, is your pilot’s license up-to-date?”
Roth flashed a stunned expression. “You have to have a license to fly? The video game simulation never stated that.” He smirked. “Don’t worry, baby.” He cradled her chin, leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. “I got you. A champion, remember?”
“Of flying paper planes.” She hadn’t actually meant to say the words aloud.
“Look at me,” Roth said. When she did, he continued, “Not only do I always want you to feel happy with me, I want you to feel safe, too. If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to. I won’t be offended.”
Tressa inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Let’s do this.”
Several moments later, they taxied down the runway, then ascended.
Tressa marveled at the view below them. The cars and houses resembled pieces in a board game. Roth seemed so comfortable, so at-home handling Zoom, that all of her earlier concerns melted away.
“How long have you had Zoom?” Tressa felt as if she was screaming into the aviation headset.
“I built her a little over two years ago.”
Built? Okay, she hadn’t heard that right. Adjusting her earpiece, she said, “Did you say you built this plane? Like...with a hammer and screwdriver?”
Roth laughed. “I had a few more tools, but yeah, something like that.”
A second later she released a shaky chuckle. “You’re not serious.”
The look he gave her said he was. Who in the hell was this man? More important, was he any good at building planes?
Roughly five hours later they touched down in Arizona, took an Uber to the car rental location, grabbed a bite to eat, purchased more temperature-appropriate clothing, then checked into the Renaissance in downtown Phoenix.
The spacious hotel room was decorated in blues and browns. A king-size bed rested in the middle of the spacious hotel room. A wall-mounted TV, a dresser and two nightstands outfitted the space. Their location boasted an amazing view of mountains in the distance.
“This bed is cozy. You should come and try it out,” Roth said, sprawled across the plush mattress.
Tressa turned away from the window. One of the first things to catch her eye—excluding her man—were the black tourmaline crystals on the nightstand. He’d brought them with him. For some reason, it made her smile.
“Come over here, woman. There are some things I need to do—I mean, say—to you.”
She moved toward the bed, slowly removing her clothing piece by piece. Roth came up on his elbows and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, watching her eagerly. First, her shirt dropped to the floor, then her bra. Next, her jeans and panties. Raw desire danced in his eyes.
“I want that. All of that,” he said, his heated gaze burning a line up and down her body.
In a seductive voice, she said, “And you can have it, baby. All of it.” She smirked. “After I get a hot shower.” She took off for the bathroom.
“Woman! Oh, you will pay for that.”
A couple of hours and orgasms later, Tressa had been eager to stay in bed with Roth all day long, exploring new ways to please one another. Unfortunately, he’d insisted there was someplace they needed to be by seven, but he wouldn’t give her any other details beyond that. What in the heck did he have up his sleeve? Whatever it was, she knew she’d like it.
On the drive to their destination, Tressa grilled Roth, but he remained tight-lipped. Thirty minutes later they crossed the line into Chandler, Arizona. A short time after that, a sign read Rawhide at Wild Horse Pass. “Where are—” Tressa’s eyes widened when she saw a second billboard-type sign. Popping Roth in the arm, she said, “Arizona Black Rodeo?”
“Glen said I should take you to a rodeo, right? Here we are.”
“No. I mean, yes. But no, I can’t believe we’re here.” Tender eyes admired him. “You flew all the way to Arizona to bring me to the rodeo.” Tressa’s heart did a pitter-patter in her chest. “You’re all right with me, Pilot.”
Hundreds of people appeared to be in attendance in the large arena. Tressa had never seen this many people dressed like cowboys and cowgirls in one place in her life. Young, old and everything in between. A group of mature women passed by and she laughed at the purple shirts they wore—Saddle up! Shut up! Hold on! She had to score one of those. And a cowgirl hat.
Roth held her near as they made their way through the crowded arena. The noise inside the place was thunderous, the lighting intense and the smell...interesting, but she loved it all.
Ooh, la, la, she thought when a group of cowboys passed them, several tipping their hats at her. “I think you’d look good in one of those outfits, baby. What do you say we do some role-playing tonight?” When Roth didn’t respond, she glanced up at him. “Roth?”
Roth’s hard stare left the group who’d just passed them and settled on her. “You like that, huh?”
Something was off with him. He lacked the warmth that had been present just moments ago. What had changed? Then it dawned on her. The group. Had the men tipping their hats at her bothered him? As if Roth could read her thoughts, he smiled and nestled her closer against him.
Leaning in close to her ear, he said, “I’ll show you a real cowboy when we get back to the room,” then winked.
There was her naughty man. Still, what had prompted the shift she’d seen in him? He’d never displayed any hint of jealousy before. Not wanting to ruin the moment, she didn’t address it. But she would when they returned to the hotel.
For the next two hours they occupied seats in the VIP section, directly above the chutes, and watched bull riding, tie-down roping, steer wrestling and undecorating. Tressa cooed during the mutton busting, where children raced sheep. Though it was quite entertaining, her nerves took a beating. Her worst fear was of one of them falling and breaking something. Luckily, it didn’t happen.
After all of the main events had ended, they decided to do the vendor stroll. Hand in hand, they moved along the trails of vendors peddling everything from wallets to horse saddles. She joked about getting one of the saddles and strapping it onto Roth’s back. He was all for it.
“So, what did you think?” Roth asked, draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “You think you want to add cowgirl to your résumé?”
“Heck, yeah,” she said. “And tonight I’ll show you how good I ride.”
“Let’s skip the vendor stroll and the Rawhide Steakhouse. We need to get back to the room right now.”
Tressa bumped him playfully. “You are insatiable.”
“I can’t help it. You bring out the hungry beast in me. And the hungry beast has to pee. I’ll be right back.” Roth started away, but stopped. Backtracking, he pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “Don’t move.”
“I’ll be right here.”
Once Roth disappeared around the corner, Tressa leaned against the metal railing and watched the remainder of the kids’ calf scramble. She laughed aloud as a dozen or more kids chased black calves. And she’d thought the mutton busting was amusing.
Tressa glanced up when something brushed her elbow. A tall, attractive, dark-skinned man wearing a black cowboy hat smiled down at her. Something happened in the arena and the entire place erupted in cheers and applause, drowning out whatever the man had said.
“What?” she yelled.
He leaned in uncomfortably close. “I said cowboys and cowgirls in the making.”
“Looks that way
.”
Instead of him leaving, like she would have preferred, he continued chatting her up.
“You’re not from around here,” he said.
Curious, she asked, “Why do you say that?”
“There is close to a thousand people in this arena and you’re the only one not wearing a cowboy hat.”
Tressa sent a glance around her. He was right. She tossed her head back and laughed. “I am not. My boyfriend and I flew up today for the rodeo.”
The man made a pained face, then placed his hand over his heart as if he’d been stabbed. “Oh, the b-word. You just killed me with seven letters.”
“Nine, actually. But who’s counting?”
Dead Man Walking continued to go on and on about something, but Tressa tuned him out. Then as if there had been a shift in the atmosphere, she glanced to see Roth standing several feet away.
Thank God. Maybe now this chatterbox would move on. But instead of Roth joining them, Roth’s steel-cold gaze assessed Dead Man Walking, and judging by Roth’s body language, walking was about to be dropped from the title.
* * *
Extreme turmoil clawed through Roth when he turned the corner to see some man bent over, whispering something in Tressa’s ear. When she laughed, jealousy—a quadrillion times greater than anything he’d ever felt before—tore through him. His throat tightened and pain drummed in his temple.
What the hell had he said to her?
Roth shuddered, resisting the urge to charge like a bull and knock the bastard over the metal rails. He’d never been an insecure man, so he couldn’t explain why the scene in front of him rubbed him so raw. But it did. His jaw tightened and every breath he took was drawn out and heavy, almost like fire in his lungs.
The cowboy kept yapping about something, but Tressa didn’t seem to be paying a great deal of attention to him. Still, she hadn’t sent him packing and that bothered him. Roth’s hands tightened into fists when the cowboy stole a glance at Tressa’s backside.
As if Tressa could sense his anguish, she turned toward him, the smile on her face melting into a frown. She shot him a worried glance, and he shot her a look right back—one of displeasure.
What in the hell was Tressa doing to him? He’d always prided himself on his ability to remain in control and be levelheaded, even during the direst of situations. Now here he was, acting like a rabid dog.
Composing himself, he held Tressa’s probing gaze as he approached. The closer he got to her, the longer their eyes held, the less rage he felt.
“Hey, baby,” she said, placing her hand on his back and ironing it up and down. “This is...”
“Frank,” the man said, extending his hand to Roth.
Roth didn’t really give a damn who he was, but he shook Frank’s hand anyway, applying a hint more pressure than necessary. It’d been a warning—man code for get the hell away from my woman. One he was sure Frank got, because he pretended to see someone he knew, then hurried away.
Roth set his stone gaze on Tressa, but didn’t speak.
“I think Frank’s a zombie. He died when I told him I had a boyfriend, but he came right back to life,” Tressa said and laughed. “He’s awfully talkative for a zombie.”
Roth knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but it didn’t work. “Really? Well, at what point did you decide to tell him you had a boyfriend? When your head was cocked back in laughter or when he was whispering in your ear?” He instantly regretted his words and his pointed tone. What the hell was wrong with him?
Then it hit him. It hadn’t been wholly about the cowboy. But the incident had triggered something already nagging him. It was seeing Cyrus’s packed box still sitting in Tressa’s closet when he’d gone to pick her up that morning. Why was she still holding on to the items? It was like she couldn’t bear to rid herself of them.
Tressa’s head jerked in what Roth took to be shock. Her jaw dropped and she stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. Recovering, she said, “I’ll meet you at the car,” and then stalked off.
Dammit.
Back at their hotel room, Roth tossed the door key, wallet and car fob on the dresser. The drive back had given him plenty of time to cool off, not to mention Tressa’s cold shoulder. In that time he realized he’d acted like a jackass. Now he needed to make things right.
Tressa stood in front of the dresser, removing her jewelry. When he walked up behind her and rested his hands on either side of her waist, she flinched. He kissed the back of her head. “I’m sorry.”
Her tired eyes met his through the mirror. “Okay.” She pushed his hands away and escaped to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with so much force the abstract painting hanging over the bed rattled.
Roth trailed her as far as the bathroom door but didn’t enter. He started to move away until he heard her sniffles. Scrubbing a hand over his head, he pinched his lids together tightly, hating himself for bringing her to tears. “Baby, please don’t cry.”
Tressa didn’t respond.
Blowing out hard, he rested his hands on either side of the door frame. “I saw red when I saw you with Frank. When I saw the way he was looking at you, checking you out...I felt threatened. I’ve never been an insecure or jealous man, Tressa. Never.” He paused. “But when it comes to you... I don’t know. I’m different.” He refrained from adding Cyrus’s box to the mix. He knew that would only make things worse.
Tressa sniffled several more times, and he thought his heart would explode from regret. All he wanted to do was burst into that room, pull her into his arms, kiss every tear away and make her forget he’d ever hurt her. Which, clearly, he had.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
On a whim, he tried the door. Surprisingly, it was unlocked. When he stepped inside, Tressa was sitting on top of the closed toilet seat, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. It ripped chunks from his heart. He guided her to stand, then wrapped her in his arms. “I’ll never make you cry again.”
Several tense minutes ticked by, her silence driving him insane. Why wouldn’t she just say something to him? Anything. And as if the universe had heard his innermost desires, he got his wish.
“I can’t—” Tressa’s voice cracked, but she soon continued, “I can’t be with you, Roth.”
Roth’s chest tightened and a sharp pain shot down his arm. He swore he was having a heart attack. Was Tressa ending things? He prayed he’d heard her incorrectly. Rearing back, his worried eyes searched hers.
Tressa continued, “Not if you can’t handle me talking to other men. I’m surrounded by men. All day, every day. You need to decide right now, before this goes any further, whether or not you can handle that. I want to be with you, Roth. But I won’t be in a relationship where I have to walk on eggshells.”
At the thought of losing Tressa, fear filled every cell in Roth’s body. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He’d just got her. There was no damn way he would lose her over this, over his own insecurities. He cradled her face between his hands. “I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what I need to do.”
“You need to trust me. Trust that what we have is real and that I’d never do anything to hurt you, Roth. I get you’ve experienced a lot of heartbreak and disappointment in your past and it has lessened your faith in people. I can’t be one of those people. Not if this is going to work. For this to work, you have to believe in us. I’m crazy about you, Roth Lexington, but I didn’t like the man I saw tonight.” Her eyes clouded with tears. “He scared me.”
Jesus. What had he done? “I would never harm you. Never. Please tell me you know that.” Several seconds that felt like several eternities ticked by.
“I know,” she finally said.
Roth snatched Tressa into his arms and held her like he’d never held her before. He greedily claimed her energy. It gave him strength. “Be patient
with me, baby.”
“I will.” A second later she pulled away. “You won’t always get to simply say I’m sorry and expect everything to be okay. I’m sorry won’t always be enough.”
He nodded his understanding. “Is it enough now?”
When she nodded, he pulled her back into his arms. He may have denied it before, but there was no way he could any longer. He was falling in love with this woman. And the thought of ever losing her scared the hell out of him.
Chapter 14
Tressa checked her watch again. The third time since she’d occupied one of the tables inside Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital’s café. Cyrus had dodged this moment long enough. If he didn’t show up this time, she would take his things to the incinerator and burn them. The junk had cluttered her storage closet and life long enough—two and a half months to be exact. She’d been dead serious when she’d given him an ultimatum: either meet her to collect it today or it would be ashes.
He’d chosen the former.
He was officially twenty minutes late. No call. No text. No nothing. So typical.
Was he calling her bluff?
Well, he had ten more minutes to show, or she was out of there. If he missed this opportunity, he wouldn’t get another.
Choosing to meet in a public place had been a great idea. She was glad Vivian had suggested it. Vivian had also suggested bringing a Taser, but she didn’t feel that was warranted. Cyrus wouldn’t harm her. However, her mother used to say you just never knew what desperate folks were capable of, especially when pride and ego were involved.
Tressa scattered the troubling thoughts. Ugh. She just wanted to get this over and be done with Cyrus, so she could focus on better things. An image of Roth filled her head. Just the thought of that man calmed her. She couldn’t wait to see him tonight. Just like with the rodeo trip a month ago, he was being just as tight-lipped about where he was taking her on their date.
She ran her fingers through her shockingly short hair, still unsure how she felt about the new cut or going natural. Change, she reminded herself. The fact that Roth had loved it brought a smile to her face.